HeartBound {Avengers Fanfic}

Chapter 18: Twists of Fate

"We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Heroes or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or we can decide for ourselves. And maybe it's our job to invent something better."

–Chuck Palahniuk

Sunlight streamed into the room as Jarvis opened the blinds on the windows, causing Freyja to stir from her sleep. She looked around for Loki, but realized he would have left sometime in the night, and gave a sigh. It had occurred to her that night that it was unlikely that he would stay till the dawn. That didn't stop it from disheartening her, though.

She walked over to the closet and pulled out the green tunic and leather trousers she had recently repaired, knowing she'd attract much less attention in them on the other Realms than if she were to wear her Midgardian clothes. Once finished dressing, she moved to the bedside table where she kept all of her jewelry, besides the ring Loki gave her, which she never removed.

She looked at herself in the full length mirror next to the closet, assessing the differences since she had last looked in a mirror. Usually, she avoided them at all costs, not wanting to see the face she saw. Apparently, she took her mother's appearance when in Asgardian form, though she didn't know why. She had never seen anything more than pictures of her mother – but that had only been long after she had first gone to Asgard.

The woman in the mirror was tall and proud in appearance. She seemed so calm and collected, the exact opposite of what Freyja truly felt. What she loathed about mirrors was the fact that they showed her something false. She was not Asgardian but, even if she changed her form back to her true appearance, she would still not look as she truly was. Her eyes were not naturally blue, her hair had originally been silver, and she was not as tall as the rest of her people. But her father had created some form of permanent spell that hid the three aspects that marked her for what she truly was. There had been a time when such superficial things wouldn't have troubled her. But with all she knew now, the illusion existed only as a physical marker for the true deception she hid behind.

With a shake of her head to dispel such thoughts, she turned away and pulled her briefcase out from under her bed. The strong pull of the Tesseract could be felt through the metal, calling out to her as it did to only those who shared its power in their blood, but she ignored the singing in her veins. She ran her hand over its surface and it shrunk to the size of a die. Checking around the room one last time, she pulled a silver chain from the briefcase, slipping the Tesseract into the tree root-shaped pendant so that it wrapped around the cube, and clasped it around her neck.

Though she had originally planned to leave the Tesseract in the briefcase, she didn't want to be put in a situation where she would have to leave it – and, subsequently, the Tesseract – behind. It was safer on her person. So she tucked it away beneath the hem of her tunic and closed the briefcase, turning off the lights in the room as she walked out. As she walked down the hall, she shrunk the briefcase until it was the size of Tony's cell phones and slid it into her pocket, as she didn't want to attract attention. The air around her shimmered as her tunic and trousers took on the appearance of one of Tony's T-shirts and a pair of acid-washed jeans.

She stopped in surprise when she saw Bruce asleep on the couch and Tony standing still, staring at her with his arms crossed over his chest. Though she knew what he looked angry about, as it had to be related to her revenge on him for all his callous words, she pulled on a mask of confusion. No need to give it away too soon.

"Is everything alright, Tony?"

"Don't 'is everything alright, Tony' me," he said slowly. "I know it was you."